


The Heartsmith

by archer_and_lionprince



Series: Hobbit AU's [5]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Boys Kissing, But only a little, Fluff, M/M, a bit of angst, heartsmith!Kili
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 06:47:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4511982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archer_and_lionprince/pseuds/archer_and_lionprince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking one of the silver streaked tweezers from the leather satchel with the small tools and rearranging his goggles, Kíli leans over the table again to continue on his task. The work to erase the bits of cold jealousy out of a heart is easy but tedious. He has to make sure that every fiber is free of the unwanted emotion and this takes usually the better part of a whole workday.</p>
<p>Quickly he becomes absorbed with his work again, his fingers moving almost on his own and his mind begins to wander to a day a few years back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Heartsmith

* * *

Taking one of the silver streaked tweezers from the leather satchel with the small tools and rearranging his goggles, Kíli leans over the table again to continue on his task. The work to erase the bits of cold jealousy out of a heart is easy but tedious. He has to make sure that every fiber is free of the unwanted emotion and this takes usually the better part of a whole workday.

Quickly he becomes absorbed with his work again, his fingers moving almost on his own and his mind begins to wander to a day a few years back.

 

_“Fíli? What are you doing here? Is everything all right?” The young dwarf looks at the distressed form of his older brother standing in the door of the smithy and lowers the hammer he currently uses to shape the first draft of a new heart._

_Fíli looks pale in the flickering light of the burning hearth, his golden locks tumbling over his shoulder in tangles, and his once neat braids look like they might come loose any second. It’s a complete contrast to his brother’s usually groomed appearance._

_“Fíli?”_

_With his lips pressed into a thin, worried line, Fíli steps further into Kíli’s smithy. Averting his brother’s searching brown eyes, the blond dwarf looks nervously around Kíli’s workspace, his eyes skimming over the many tools his brother uses to create new hearts or to repair those who are dented or broken._

_The usual look of wonder when he visits his brother at work is strangely absent in the stormy blue eyes today. Instead, Fíli swallows timidly and walks to the workbench standing beside the anvil only to slump down onto the wooden chair._

_“Fíli? You’re starting to scare me. Did something happen?”Kíli watches the blond dwarf with apprehension. “Fee?” He takes the raw heartstone with one of the silver tongs and lays it with great care into the water filled basin on the ground, looking at his brother out of the corner of his eyes._

_“Yes. No… I- I don’t know… I think…” Fíli stops, a flicker of despair appearing on his face when he looks at Kíli. The blond’s hand twitches nervously, before raising it to grip at his tunic._

_Taking a deep breath the blond dwarf tries again, “I- I think my heart is…wrong.“_

_“What do you mean with wrong?” Kíli questions confused, abandoning the anvil now completely and stepping closer to his older brother. A crease of worry forms between his dark brows when he sees how tightly the blond fists his hand over the spot where his heart lies._

_“Nadad, what happened? What makes you think that?” Kíli asks gently, kneeling in front of Fíli and placing his hands on the blond’s knees. Fíli jerks at his light touch and the young heartsmith couldn’t help but feel a pang of hurt in his chest. His brother never used to flinch away from his touch._

_“It’s all right, Fee,” Kíli speaks calmly and removes his hands from his brother’s legs, placing his forearm on the table instead, to brace himself and keep his balance. The bad feeling in his gut is only increasing._

_“It’s damaged. I-It must be. I have feelings I’m not supposed to have. They’re wrong.” Fíli whispers, rushing the words towards the end and shaking his head in distress._

_Watching the golden haired dwarf silently and barely keeping himself from touching Fíli again to comfort him, Kíli murmurs after a few quiet seconds, “What feelings?”_

_“I- I love someone I’m not supposed to love.” Fíli whispers quietly, lifting his head hesitantly and locking his eyes with Kíli’s._

_Kíli stares at the blond, his lips slightly parted while a hot and cold sensation runs through the heartsmith. The first thing that wants to cross his mind is who has stolen his brother’s heart, and the ugly feeling of jealousy starts to gather in the pit of his stomach. But then he sees something that wasn’t there before. There’s something in Fíli’s eyes, something that sparks the old flames of hope that he buried such a long time ago together with the knowledge that the blond would never feel the same way._

_It always was just a faraway dream; Something to dream about while mending the fractured hearts of dwarrows, men and sometimes even elves._

_“Can I see?” Kíli mumbles, keeping his gaze steady on the blond._

_Fíli seems to freeze at the question, his whole body tensing and slightly curling in on itself. A few minutes of silence pass, Kíli watching the blond visibly ring with himself before the tension suddenly drains from Fíli’s shoulders and whispers, “All right.”_

_Slowly, Fíli uncurls the fist that rested all this time against his chest, revealing the faint glow of a loving heart._

_The glow of the heart is a pretty amaranth red and even from his place Kíli can see that it’s a beautiful exemplar._

_Kíli takes his brother’s heart with the greatest care a heartsmith possesses, lowering himself to the ground and seating cross-legged in front of his watching nadad._

_It feels warm and small in his big hands._

_Taking a last glance at the blond, and catching the startling blue eyes for a fleeting second, Kíli begins to examine the heart. He might know from the healthy glow that there’s nothing obviously wrong with it, but no one should say that Kíli doesn’t do his craft right._

_He follows the soft patterns imprinted on the heart with his keen eyes. Every curve, every line and pattern tells a story about the owner of the heart. It’s like a book only a heartsmith can open and read, a tale of love and losses, of friendship and kinship._

_And the things Kíli can see make his heart soar with happiness._

_“I’m right, aren’t I? There is something wrong.” Fíli speaks up in the silence, his knuckles white from how tightly he grips at his knees._

_Shaking his head, Kíli cups the heart gently and moves his legs around until he can kneel on them, drawing himself higher to be almost face to face with the blond. “There’s nothing wrong with your heart, nadad.” Kíli smiles reassuringly and places the precious heart back to where it belongs. “It’s just like mine.”_

_“No, you don’t understand. You must have seen them, Kíli, I know you did and I’m sorry that you had to see them. I would have gone to another smith if there’d be one but there isn’t and I didn’t want for you to see how twisted my heart-“_

_“Fee! Fíli, stop.” Kíli stops Fíli’s panicked rambling and cups the blond’s face with his palms. He looks into Fíli’s wide eyes and says with vigour, “There is_ nothing _wrong with how you feel._ _Our people might not understand the many ways of love. But I, as the heartsmith, know that we cannot choose who we love.”_

_“There is nothing wrong with your heart, Fee.” Kíli says with a hint of sorrow in his voice. He knows that it’s not Fíli’s fault to think that love between a certain group of people is wrong. They have both been taught about forbidden love arrangements in childhood but Kíli had never truly believed in those rules, and his Master who took him as an apprentice had taught him that the heart always chooses right and after the Makers benignly wishes. He just thought that the blond would see it the same way, but apparently his brother lives more under the elders influence than he thought._

_“But-“_

_“No, Fíli. Whatever the elders have taught us about…_ twisted _love is wrong.” Kíli says gently, grimacing slightly when the word leaves his lips. “Please, nadad, believe me. Or would you think me twisted, too?”_

_Startled, Fíli parts his lips, the soft hairs of the blond’s beard tickling along Kíli’s palm at the small movement._

_“That can’t be…” Fíli whispers disbelievingly once he processed the words. “Nadadith…”_

 

“…Nadadith! KÌLI!”

The unique blue of Fíli’s eyes vanishes in Kíli’s mind and the pungent smell of smoke fills his nose. Hiding his face, in the crook of his arm, Kíli coughs a few times before stumbling to his feet.

“Shit.” The brunet curses and leaps to the fireplace in hope to save whatever may be left of his food. But all he finds are burned crisps of his lunch.

“Not again.” Groaning, Kíli hides his face in his hands, until he hears the sound of silent laughter. Moving his fingers away from his eyes, the brunet squints at the blond dwarf leaning against the anvil.

“Burned your food again, mizimelûh?” Fíli teases as he walks around the heavy anvil.

Lowering his hands, Kíli chuckles lowly, traces of red on his cheeks. “Yeah.”

“You really should know by now that working and cooking at the same time doesn’t work for you.” The blond smiles and walks up to Kíli, pressing a kiss on the brunet’s lips. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Kíli returns the smile brightly and steals another kiss, his eyes twinkling in the light.

“I brought a bit of lunch with me. I had a feeling you might need it.” Fíli reaches up to brush a few dark locks out of Kíli’s face.

“Mhm my savior.” The dark-haired heartsmith mumbles, nuzzling happily against Fíli’s cheek.

Fíli laughs and turns his head away, Kíli’s rough stubble scratching against his beard and causing a weird prickling sensation. “Stop that, or the food is getting cold again.”

Pouting, but knowing that Fíli is right Kíli loosens his hold on the smaller dwarf’s waist and allows himself to be guided to his table. He clears the table of his tools and pushes his newest commission to the side and out of harm’s way. “Did you bring the stew from yesterday?” Kíli licks his lips at the delicious smell.

“Yeah. I brought some fresh bread, too.” Fíli points to the parcel besides the small pot with the rabbit stew and reaches for two plates and spoons that Kíli keeps in one of the top shelves.

“Say, what held your thoughts this time that you forgot your lunch on the fire again?” Fíli asks and turns around, giving Kíli his set of tableware and taking the seat across from his brother.

“Oh,” Kíli’s face lights up, “I thought about you and about the day that led to our first kiss.”

Fíli scrunches up his nose, stirring in his stew, “That kiss was awful, how can you still think about it? Our second kiss was so much better.”

“It was rememberable.” Kíli laughs.

“That it was, “Fíli admits with laugh of his own, sending a soul-deep warmth through Kíli, “You were so eager to kiss me that the chair toppled over and we had a very awkward conversation with uncle as to where our split lips came from and the large bruise on your forehead.”


End file.
